


Did you know, could you tell?

by aewriting



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Brief mention of Jesse Manes, Canon compliant gun violence, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Marijuana, Therapy, canon compliant injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewriting/pseuds/aewriting
Summary: Michael is shocked to discover that Alex is engaged to another man. Alex is shocked to discover just how little he's actually shared with his own fiance.
Relationships: Alex Manes/Original Male Character(s), Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 75
Kudos: 137





	1. Here comes your secret lover

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a surprise little fic. This is the first time I've ever actually finished a multi-chapter story before posting it (pats self on back, ha), so enjoy! This is three parts, and I'll be posting daily. The fic ends rather abruptly, but to me it felt like a natural end point - a shift, if you well.

“You sure you’re not jamming these on purpose, DeLuca?"

Maria sighs. “Can you fix them or not, Guerin?”

Michael winks at her. “You know I can.”

“Oh, I know,” Maria says, a half-smile on her face. “What I don’t know is how much it’ll cost me.”

Michael stares at her thoughtfully. “Clear tab would be a good start.”

Maria arches an eyebrow. “Would it? I was thinking more along the lines of... Oh my god.”

Michael looks up, concerned. “DeLuca?”

No response.

Louder, now. “Maria?”

Maria looks down at him, clearly distracted. “Yeah, I’ll clear your tab,” she says. She moves quickly away from Michael to the other side of the bar. Curious, Michael pokes his head up over the bar, sees Maria embracing someone.

He narrows his eyes. Looks like a guy. It’s a long hug, a real one. Does DeLuca have a boyfriend? The embrace ends, Maria pulls back, and -

Holy shit.

Michael immediately ducks back down, low beneath the bar.

It’s Alex.

He takes a breath, then another. Begins to slowly crawl toward the other side of the bar.

This is pathetic, he thinks, feeling the sticky, beer splattered floor beneath him. Pathetic and sad and ridiculous, but still he inches closer to Maria.

“ - so happy for you two!”

Michael freezes. You two?

“Thanks,” he hears Alex say. Alex, god. Alex is here, in this bar with him, breathing the same goddamn air.

“It’s still pretty new,” he hears another man say. “I’m just glad he said yes!”

Yes?

Maria laughs. “Well I’d say this calls for the good stuff!” she says merrily as she turns toward the glasses... and promptly trips right over Michael.

“Fuck!” she cries as she goes down, and Michael releases a quick burst of power to ease her fall, reaches out to catch her.

“You okay?” he asks quickly, looking her over.

“Yeah,” Maria says, “yeah, I’m fine, but... what are you doing over here? It’s the Sam Adams that’s broken, down at the other end.”

“I... I was just...”

“Michael?”

Michael closes his eyes briefly. Takes a breath. Looks up.

He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough for Maria to get to her feet. “Michael,” she says, gentler than usual. “Do you remember Alex? Alex Manes? He went to school with us.”

The guy Michael doesn’t recognize, the guy that’s really fucking attractive, the guy that, that’s with Alex chuckles. “Wow, babe, did you go to school with everyone in this bar?”

Michael bites his lip, looks at Maria. “I remember Alex,” he says quietly. Before anything else can be said, he points behind him. “I’ll be right back.”

Maria nods and Michael hurries off, straight to the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him, contemplates locking it with his powers but decides against it when he sees one of the stalls is occupied. He’s otherwise alone, and he’s grateful for it.

Alex. Alex, here in Roswell, unannounced. With a guy. A guy who, if context clues are to be believed, is Alex’s fiancé.

Michael feels depleted. Drained. And it’s not like he’s never thought of this. Not like, in his more generous moments, he hasn’t hoped for this. For Alex. That he could find some peace, some happiness. Even if it wasn’t with Michael.

But it’s a whole other thing to see this “happiness” in the flesh - all six, muscular feet of it. Fucking dammit.

Things must have moved fast. It’s been two years since Alex was last in town. Since they were last together. There’d been no promises - there never were. Alex was set to deploy to Baghdad and, like always, Michael had hoped it would be the time things would be different. It wasn’t… unless you counted the new fiancé. That was pretty fucking different.

He hears the door to the bathroom swing open. Hears the familiar voice.

“Michael?”

He takes a deep breath, gathers himself. “Alex,” he says, matter-of-fact. He can’t look at him, not yet. “I guess congratulations are in order?”

“I’m sorry you found out like this.”

Michael lets out a bitter little laugh. “And how exactly were you hoping I’d find out?” Alex doesn’t answer, and Michael shakes his head, grips the sink. “So,” he says, fake-casual, “how’d you two lovebirds meet?”

There’s a pause, a long one. “Hospital.”

Michael freezes. Turns, slowly, to face Alex. Sees the cane and the way Alex is leaning on it for support. “What happened?” he asks, dreading the answer.

Alex purses his lips. “IED.”

“How bad?”

Alex stares at him. “Bad,” he says, reaching down and knocking on his right leg. The sound that results, dull and metallic, makes Michael’s stomach turn.

“I didn’t know,” he says.

“I know,” Alex says quietly.

If Michael didn’t know Alex had a fiancé waiting for him on the other side of the door, he’d go to him. Take him in his arms, assure himself that he’s here, really here. Breathe in the scent of him, show him how much he’s missed him, how much he still cares. How much his heart aches for him, for the recent injury and recovery that he hadn’t even known about before tonight.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Can’t. Alex is engaged.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” Alex finally says.

They’d fought about that, last time Alex was in town. They both knew how to hurt each other, after all these years, all these goodbyes. Michael shrugs, changes the subject. “What are you and your fiancé doing here?” He draws out the word fiancé, and is a little pleased to see Alex flinch at the sound of it.

“Thomas thought it was important to see where I’m from. Meet...” He pauses, swallows. “Meet my family.”

Michael sucks in a breath. “Then Thomas must not know you very well.” He sees the flash of anger on Alex’s face, keeps barreling forward. “Cause, cause if he did, Alex... Shit, this would be the last place he’d want you to be.” He looks down at his dirt-stained boots. “It’s the last place I want you to be. Anywhere near your asshole dad.”

He hears Alex’s breathing. It’s slowing down and he’s not saying anything. Michael glances up briefly, sees Alex staring at his hand. He jams it in his pocket.

Alex shakes his head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, okay?” he says, and he sounds so... weary. “It’s not, not like I’ve dated...”

Michael scoffs, feels his own anger rising.

“I’m just trying not to fuck this up - “

“Fuck it up how? By being honest? By telling your fiancé that your dad is a homophobic shithead?” Michael narrows his eyes. “I would think if you really cared about this guy - “

“That’s enough,” Alex grits out. He turns, then pauses like he might say something else. Doesn’t. Stalks out of the bathroom.

And Michael just watches him go. Closes his eyes, bites his lip, and wishes he’d gone anywhere but the Pony tonight. 

It’ll all be over soon, he tells himself. Alex and his fiancé will leave town, and the pain will recede to a dull ache, like it always does. Maybe... maybe this time there will actually be some finality to it, some closure, knowing that Alex has someone else to -

Creeeeeak.

Michael whirls around to see the door to the bathroom stall finally open.

“Shit,” Kyle Valenti says, a sheepish expression on his face. “I thought maybe you’d left already.”

Of all the fucking people to hear his drama with Alex... “Nope,” Michael says, scowling.

Kyle gives him a little nod and goes to the sink. Washes his hands quickly.

Michael quirks an eyebrow at him. “Really? That’s it?” He laughs a little, almost daring Valenti to come at him. “Your bigoted ass doesn’t have a single thing to say about all this?”

Kyle closes his eyes briefly. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds... sincere. “I’m sorry for how I acted in high school. I know how wrong it was.” He looks at Michael pointedly. “I know it hurt a lot of people. Especially Alex, but not just him.”

Michael can do nothing but blink.

“See you around, Guerin,” Kyle says, sounding almost regretful. He leaves the bathroom, and not five seconds later, Hank and Wyatt stumble in.

“This isn’t Planet Fucking Seven, you know?” Wyatt grumbles loudly.

And Michael knows he can’t listen to this shit without blowing up. Not tonight. He pushes past the men, exits the bathroom, and heads straight for the main doors of the Pony. He feels a twinge of guilt over sticking Maria with the faulty Sam Adams tap, but figures she’d rather be dealing with that than a bar brawl.

He’s not drunk. In fact, he feels a little too sober. Guiding his truck out of the Pony, he reaches for the bottle of acetone he has shoved in the glove compartment. Takes a long swig. Knows he’ll have more once he gets to the Airstream.

Knows that the hope he’s been clinging to for the past nine years is now officially gone.


	2. Well maybe nothin' lasts forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex realizes that he and his fiance have some issues to sort out.

“Your brother was really nice.”

Alex smiles politely. “Yeah, Greg’s a good guy.”

“Seems like he really likes what he’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, guiding the rental onto the main highway.

Thomas stares at him. “Everything okay, babe? You seem a little off.”

He rubs Alex’s leg, and Alex hates himself a little. Thomas is good to him. Kind. It’s certainly not Thomas’s fault that Alex feels all twisted up inside ever since running into Michael last night at the Pony.

So Alex aims for... middle-ground truthfulness. “I guess I am a little off,” he acknowledges. “Being back here... a lot of the memories are tough. And I feel like I’ve changed so much, even though this place hasn’t.”

Thomas nods sympathetically. “I hear you,” he says. “After my knee, it was so weird to go back home. Back to all the people whose lives hadn’t done a complete 180.”

Alex’s mouth twists a little. “Yeah,” he murmurs. He reaches over, fiddles with the radio.

Thomas raises an eyebrow at him, but says no more, not for a few miles at least.

“Alex,” he starts, a little hesitant. “Are you sure you don’t want to stop by your dad’s?”

Alex looks at him sharply.

“I mean, we’ve come all the way to New Mexico...”

Alex can feel his jaw clenching, and suddenly he hears Michael’s fucking voice in his head: “ _Thomas_ _must not know you very well_.”

“I’ve told you, Thomas,” Alex says, trying to keep his tone measured. “My father and I don’t get along. We don’t have a relationship.”

Thomas bites his lip. “So is this how it’s going to be? Like even with the wedding?”

The wedding. The fucking wedding.

“Yes,” Alex grits out. He can feel the tension in the car, and mostly he’s mad at himself. Thomas doesn’t know how bad it was with his dad, because that would mean actually talking about it. Thinking about it. And that’s a topic Alex has very studiously avoided.

There... there are a lot of topics like that. And he knows, he knows this is putting Thomas in a Catch-22. Thomas can’t really understand what Alex is going through because Alex won’t tell him. And Alex won’t tell him because he wants this relationship to work, god dammit. Thomas is nice. His family is nice. Alex is trying so hard not to screw it all up with his own fucked up history.

***

“So how was the trip out West?” the General asks. “I’ve been all over this beautiful country, and I have to say, New Mexico was one of the most memorable places.”

“It really was,” Virginia chimes in. “The desert is so lovely. Rich and I actually talked about retiring out there at one point. Arizona.”

Alex nods politely. His memories of the desert mostly consist of either the horrible wilderness exercises his dad would lead him and his brothers on, or covert hookups with Michael in his truck, under the stars.

Shit. Michael.

It’s not like he’s ever totally stopped thinking of Michael, but it had certainly receded these last few years after getting together with Thomas. After running into him at the Pony, though, Alex finds these memories of Michael coming to him, unbidden, with alarming frequency.

“We got to drive through quite a bit of desert to see Alex’s brother, Greg. He’s a teacher out on the Diné Reservation,” Thomas explains, looking to Alex to be sure he got the pronunciation right.

Alex gives him a reassuring nod and a little smile. “Yes. It was good to see him.”

“What branch was Greg, again?”

“Army.”

“Ah!” General Crider says with a smile. “Knew I liked him. And your dad?”

“Air Force.”

The General nods. “What did you think of your future father-in-law, Tom?”

Thomas tries to give his Dad a little look of warning, which Alex appreciates. “Alex isn’t close to his dad.”

Virginia frowns. “What about your mother?”

Alex puts down his cutlery. “She chose not to be a part of my life a while ago,” he says. He hopes it sounds diplomatic.

Virginia clucks her tongue. “Well that’s just a shame.”

Thomas turns to the General. “You catch the Caps game last night?”

The General laughs. “Like I’d miss it? It’s the playoffs. They did a good job shutting Crosby down...”

Alex reaches under the table and gives Thomas’s hand a grateful squeeze.

***

“Was thinking maybe we could try something later tonight. If you’re into it.”

Alex raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“Bet you are,” Thomas says with a grin. “Wait here.”

Alex settles back into his chair, trying to think about what Thomas might have in mind. The sex is good, with Thomas. Enjoyable. They’ve tried toys a few times, nothing too out there. If anything, Alex is a little more adventurous than Thomas. It’s always put Alex at ease, too, that Thomas knew about his leg from the start. Same as he’d known about Thomas’s knee. That’s how they’d met, in fact – they’d been in the gym at the same time for their PT sessions at Walter Reed. They’d struck up a friendship, started having lunch together. Started talking. It had been a relief to have a shared experience like that, and they’d supported each other through some incredibly difficult times. There was a common understanding when it came to grab bars, bad days, pain meds… intimacy. 

It wasn’t like Thomas knew him… before. Like Michael did.

Thomas returns to the living room holding something behind his back, looking mischievous. It makes Alex smile a little, too. “What is it?” he asks, trying to crane his neck to see.

With a flourish, Thomas reaches behind his back and reveals a new white cowboy hat. Alex’s stomach drops.

“What do you think?” Thomas asks, placing it atop his head and turning side to side.

Alex frowns. “What made you - “

“Our trip to New Mexico,” Thomas says with a shrug. “There was that hot cowboy at the bar...”

Oh god. Oh god, _no_.

“Babe?” Thomas has taken off the hat, is kneeling down in front of Alex. “It... it’s okay. I just thought it would be fun. We don’t have to, like, do anything with this.”

And Alex just nods.

***

“I think we should see a therapist.”

“What?”

Thomas bites his lip. “I feel like things have been off between us.”

Things _have_ been off, ever since the trip to fucking Roswell. Ever since Michael.

Alex shrugs. “Okay.”

***

“I’ve been trying to set a date, but every time we try to have the conversation, I feel like something comes up.”

“I see. Alex?”

He sighs. “There’s just... there’s just so much uncertainty. Like, we don’t even know where we are going to be living next year.”

“Hopefully Boston.”

Alex feels his chest tighten.

“Thomas,” Dr. Krishna says. “Let’s let Alex talk.”

“I just don’t think we need to rush, with the wedding.”

“Thomas, what do you think?”

Thomas exhales. “I think that Alex may not realize what goes into planning a wedding. The way my mom’s been talking, we might have a chance at the front of the society page, with our background.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “What? A, a society page?”

“In the Washington Post. Like, the featured wedding. It would be amazing to be able to get that kind of name recognition. Could help set the groundwork for when I decide to run, you know?”

Alex is silent. He’s always known about Thomas’s political ambitions. Hearing him speak about it so plainly, though, even related to their _wedding_...

Dr. Krishna is looking at him thoughtfully. “What’s going through your mind right now, Alex?”

He licks his lips. Looks down. “It’s a lot. It’s just a lot.”

***

“Do you not want to get married? Is that it?”

“No! Of _course_ I want to marry you!”

Of _course_ he should want to marry Thomas. Of _course_ he should. Thomas is attractive. Wealthy. Kind. Clever. Ambitious. They have a beautiful apartment together in Arlington, totally accessible for the both of them. Thomas is a former Marine, Purple Heart recipient… Thomas is going places, wants to attend Harvard Business School, run for office. Wants Alex by his side.

“ _Then Thomas must not know you very well_ ,” he hears in his head, for the millionth time since he and Michael confronted each other in the Pony bathroom.

“Then why can’t we set a date? Why can’t we come up with a guest list?”

Alex closes his eyes.

“We don’t fight,” Thomas says, drawing nearer. “You know that?”

“Thomas...” Alex starts.

“No, please hear me out,” Thomas says, holding up a hand. “At first, I was glad. I’ve had boyfriends before where it was just constant bickering. But it’s been two years now, Alex. Like, that’s not healthy. I... I think we really do need to sit down and hash out this wedding stuff.”

“What is there to hash out?”

Thomas stares at him. “Well, we could start by deciding who you want to invite from your family.”

“Greg.”

“That’s it?”

Alex nods.

“Really?” Thomas asks. “Are you sure you don’t want your parents there?”

“Very sure.”

Thomas sighs. “Okay. Just don’t want you to regret it, you know?”

***

“I want to be a person, not a prop!”

Even Dr. Krishna looks stunned. “What, what do you mean by that, Alex?”

“I... I feel sometimes like you like me because I tick the right boxes for you. For your career. Which on the one hand is just, like, surreal. But on the other hand I just... I wonder if you really like me. As a person.”

“God, Alex,” Thomas says, clearly exasperated. “Of course I like you. But you make it so _hard_ sometimes.”

“Let’s reframe that,” Dr. Krishna says quickly. “I feel...”

“Fine,” Thomas says. “I feel...” he pauses for a long moment. “I feel shut out, sometimes, with you. I feel like there’s so much you don’t say.”

“Can you give an example?”

Thomas looks at his feet. “The hat.”

Alex’s shoulders slump.

“What is the hat?” Dr. Krishna prompts.

Thomas looks a little uncomfortable. “You know how we went to New Mexico to meet Alex’s family and then only hung out with his brother?”

Alex rolls his eyes a bit.

“Well, we went out to a bar, and it was very Western. Boots and cowboy hats and some of Alex’s old classmates. Just made me think it could be fun to mix things up in the bedroom, in a low-key kind of way. So I bought a cowboy hat. I thought he’d be excited. But he just, like, totally clammed up about it and I still have no clue why.”

Alex is gripping the sides of his chair.

“Alex,” Dr. Krishna says gently, “it’s completely fine if you aren’t interested in certain sexual activities. No explanation needed. But it could really help to build intimacy with Thomas if you were to communicate why that’s not something you want to do together.”

Why is this so fucking hard?

He doesn’t want to tell Thomas because it means opening up the Pandora’s Box of just how fucked up he and his past are. And once that happens, he’s afraid Thomas will decide he’s not worth the effort.

But he’s coming to realize that the barriers he’s put up are too high, that in trying to protect himself, he’s keeping everyone else out. Thomas. Dr. Krishna.

Michael.

“My ex had a hat like that,” Alex says.

***

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Alex takes in Thomas’s hopeful face. He hopes that, whatever this is, it’s something he can be genuinely excited about. Things haven’t been good lately. It just seems like counseling keeps revealing all the ways they’re different... and all the ways Alex has been concealing himself.

“I got us plane tickets.”

“Yeah? Where to?”

“Albuquerque.”

Alex’s face shutters. “What? Why?”

“For your reunion. Ten year. I saw the invitation.”

Alex scoffs. “I had no intention of going to that.”

“But babe,” Thomas says, nearly pleading, “I thought you liked seeing your friend, Maria. Your brother. And I thought maybe, if we’re in town a little longer, maybe I could meet a few more people.”

Alex narrows his eyes. “Like who?”

“I dunno, your parents? Any of your other brothers?”

“So that’s what this is about,” Alex says. “Thomas, i don’t even know if my other brothers are in the country. Flint was in Germany last I heard. And I don’t know how many ways I can tell you - I am never going to have a relationship with my parents. Never.”

Thomas’s shoulders slump. “Not even, like, when we have kids?”

Alex just blinks at him. Realizes that, for all their counseling, all their conversations, Thomas really doesn’t understand. And part of that’s on Alex. So he lets him know.

“My father...” he starts, “is incredibly homophobic.”

Thomas stares at him, opens his mouth.

Alex holds up a hand. “Like, homophobic to the point where…” Fuck, he doesn’t want to talk about this. “He caught me, once. With another guy. Broke… broke his hand with a fucking hammer.”

“Oh my god,” Thomas says, horrified. “Oh my god.”

***

“Babe?” Thomas says. He sounds hesitant, and Alex hates it.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking. About what you said. About your dad.”

Shit.

“And, and the guy you were with. You… you said your dad broke his hand?”

Alex nods tightly. 

“And you said that your ex, that he used to wear a cowboy hat?” Alex is just staring at Thomas. “That guy at the bar, the cowboy guy you went to high school with…” Thomas swallows hard. “Alex, was that your ex?”

Alex stares at him for a long minute. Nods.

Thomas sits down heavily on the ottoman. “Wish you’d told me. I… I’ve told you so much, about my exes.” He shakes his head. “You two acted like you barely knew each other. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alex rubs tiredly at his face. “What is there to tell, Thomas?”

Thomas is biting his lip. “Do you love him?”

Alex scoffs. “No! We were young and it was the worst fucking mistake of my life, letting him anywhere close to my dad. I, I don’t love him,” he repeats, sounding desperate even to himself. “I, it was a secret, okay? It had to be, with my dad, with Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. It’s not like, not like we ever had a chance to, to…” He trails off, sees Thomas looking at him with big, hurt eyes.

“That’s when all this weirdness between us started,” Thomas murmurs, half to himself. “In that bar. And maybe all this stuff was here before then, but I just didn’t want to see it.” He sighs. “Listen, Alex. I don’t care that you have a past. We all do. But… but I want you to be able to trust me with it. I… I want to _know_ you, Alex. I want to know what you want.”

Alex exhales a bitter breath. “Come on, Thomas, we both know that what I want doesn’t matter here. You’re gonna do what you do. Go to Harvard. Run for office. I’m here to support that, not be a liability.”

Thomas looks like he’s just been slapped. “Is that really what you think?” he asks softly.

“Am I wrong?” Alex asks.

***

Alex gets the text while he’s at PT. 

_Picking up dinner from Osteria Morini._

It’s one of Thomas’s favorite restaurants. They’ve had a number of dates there. He’s actually feeling a little excited until he gets the next text.

_We need to talk._

***

The food is fantastic. They’ve had wine, too, a nice Italian red from the General. 

Thomas seems nervous. “I got dessert, too, if you want it.”

“You said you wanted to talk,” Alex says.

Thomas takes a deep breath. “Yeah…” He looks at Alex, then looks down at his lap. “I… I don’t know if this is working out, Alex.”

***

Alex knew he was going to fuck it up. He feels oddly numb about it, more inconvenienced than anything. Maybe that’s a sign.

He doesn’t have many belongings. It’s not hard to get them gathered up. A little harder to pack everything, harder still to get the boxes moved to a storage facility.

Before his leg, it would have been easy. 

Thomas is still nice, says he doesn’t need to move out immediately, says he can take his time, but Alex just wants out. No point prolonging this, for either of them.

He just needs to go. Away from here. He’s never liked DC. Not like he ever liked New Mexico, either, but at least it’s a change of scene he can reach with a pre-paid plane ticket. And he has Jim’s old hunting cabin, just waiting empty for him.

“I wish this had worked,” Thomas whispers, their last time together, clutching at him in the dark. “I… I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Thomas,” Alex says. It’s not a lie. He wants the best for Thomas. Which is exactly why he needs to leave.

***

He’s in an Uber on his way to Dulles, having second thoughts about the flight. He gets out his phone, texts Maria.

_Any chance I can crash with you for the reunion?_

The response is immediate.

_Yes!_

He sees that she typing. 

_Thomas coming too?_

Alex takes a deep breath and replies.

_We just broke up._


	3. Did it ever make you cry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex returns to Roswell.

Michael takes a long, slow drag off the blunt, passes it back to Maria. They’re in the back of her pickup after last call. This feels… intimate, like it could be the start of something. They’ve gotten closer, these past few months – a little less biting with each other, a little gentler. He knows she has shit on her mind, with her mom. He doesn’t mind listening. Nothing’s happened, not yet. In the past, he wouldn’t have even considered it. Even now, he knows there’s only so close he can get, with anyone, given his… origins. But now that Alex has gone and gotten himself a goddamn husband…

Maria’s phone dings, and she looks at it. Her face lights up. “Yes,” she whispers to herself as she types out a message, smiling. 

The phone dings again, and her expression changes quickly. “Oh shit,” she mutters. “Shit, shit…”

Michael frowns. “Everything okay?”

Maria keeps typing, nods her head. “Yeah, everything’s fine, just…” She hits send and refocuses on Michael. “A friend just broke up with his fiancé.”

Michael freezes. Could it be? It would be safer, really, not to say anything, not to pry. But a part of him needs to know if this is Alex. “That sucks,” he says casually. 

“Mmm hmm,” Maria says, continuing her texting volley. She’s turned so Michael can’t see the screen. “Damn,” she says, staring at the phone. “They seemed so good together, too.”

“Your friend and his girlfriend?” Michael says, fishing.

Maria looks at him. “Actually, my friend, it’s Alex. I think you met his fiancé a few months back. They stopped by the Pony while you were supposed to be fixing my tap,” she says pointedly. She takes the blunt from Michael, takes a long pull. “I wonder what happened.” She shakes her head. “Alex has been through some shit, some real shit.”

“Yeah,” Michael says softly.

Maria looks at him, a little sharply. 

“His, his leg,” Michael says, fumbling. “He had a cane, last I saw him.”

“It was an IED,” Maria says. “I still don’t know why he joined the fucking Air Force in the first place.” She blows out smoke in a long, shaky exhale. “It was his asshole father, probably.”

Michael can’t hold back the little grunt that escapes him. 

Maria cocks her head, passes the blunt back to Michael. “Didn’t realize that was common knowledge.”

“What?”

“Alex’s dad.”

Michael buys time by sucking in smoke, holding it in his lungs till it burns. He keeps it in too long, starts to cough. But it doesn’t stop there. He doesn’t know if it’s the weed, the smoke inhalation, or just ten years of holding in absolutely everything related to Alex Manes.

He starts to cry.

Really cry, right there in front of Maria DeLuca.

“Michael?” she says, looking alarmed. “Michael!”

“I’m,” he manages between the coughing, the tears. Fuck. “I’m, I’m okay, DeLuca.” 

He’s not okay. This is not okay.

“It’s the weed,” he tries to explain.

Maria’s brow is furrowed. She, she looks like she’s studying him. Michael remembers, right then, that she’s supposedly psychic. Well.

“It’s not the weed,” she says, slowly shaking her head. “Michael… were you and Alex ever – “

“No,” he says, much too quickly, and he knows he’s given himself away.

“Oh my god,” Maria says, clapping a hand over her mouth. “It’s you. It’s been you all these years.”

He says nothing. 

“He went after you, this last time, didn’t he? You both disappeared. I had to listen to Thomas talk about New England IPAs for twenty minutes and then Alex finally came back, in a horrible mood. I thought Wyatt or Hank might have said something shitty, but it was you he was talking to, wasn’t it?”

“Maria, please,” Michael says, and even he can hear the hurt.

“He’s staying with me, for the reunion,” Maria says. “He’ll be here by morning.”

Michael shakes his head. Has nothing to say to that. Because she doesn’t know what’s gone on between them. How much murky fucking water is under the bridge. Hell, he doesn’t even know if there still is a bridge. He extends his hand, offers her the blunt. 

“You keep it,” she says softly. “Think you need that more than me tonight.”

***

He sleeps in his truck, right in the Pony lot. He tells himself it’s because of the weed, but he knows better. It’s because of Alex. 

He wants to see him. Is he upset about his breakup? Relieved? 

It’s mid-morning when the Uber pulls up. Alex gets out, with nothing but a small duffel and his cane. Michael watches through the windshield as Alex goes to the back door of the Pony, knocks, and greets Maria with a tight hug. 

Michael wonders if he’ll ever get to hug Alex in public. The thought of it makes him swallow hard against the sudden rush of emotion that comes over him. Alex is in town for the reunion. A reunion Isobel has planned, that she’s been trying to convince Michael to attend for months. She’s going to get her wish.

***

Michael apologizes to Sanders for being late, claims there was an emergency. Sanders doesn’t believe him, but he also doesn’t do much more than complain, albeit loudly. Michael tunes it out, does his work. He should just wait till the reunion. He knows Alex will be there. But he can’t wait. Knows if there’s a chance of seeing Alex, he wants it to be sooner rather than later. So he showers carefully, makes himself a sandwich, puts on his cleanest clothes and heads to the Pony for the night.

***

Maria sees him as soon as he walks in, inclines her head slightly to the left, where Alex is currently sitting at the bar, a bottle of beer in front of him. Michael takes a deep breath, gathers his courage, and walks up to him.

“This seat taken?”

Alex whirls around, eyes wide. “Michael,” he says.

“In the flesh.”

He sees Alex swallow, watches the bob of his throat as he does. Michael settles himself on the barstool next to Alex. 

Maria walks over, raises an eyebrow. “What’ll it be?”

“Beer,” Michael says. “Same as his.”

Alex glances at him, and Maria gives him a nod. “Sure thing.”

Alex is being quiet, too quiet, and Michael isn’t sure what to say. “You in town for the reunion?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Alex says.

“Didn’t really think you were a reunion kind of guy.”

Alex scoffs. “I could say the same for you.” He clears his throat. “You going, Maria?” he calls out.

She saunters over with the beer. “Absolutely. Gotta make that money.” Alex looks confused. “I’m doing palm readings.”

Alex nods. “Should’ve had you give me one of those last time I was here,” he says.

Maria reaches out, pats his arm. “I’ll give you one later. On the house,” she says gently.

“You okay?” Michael asks.

“Do I not seem okay?”

Michael leans back, raises his arms in faux-surrender. “I’m just asking.” He lowers his arms, looks at Alex. “You seem sad, is all.”

Alex sighs deeply, takes a drink. “My fiancé broke up with me.” He gives a wry little laugh. “And you, you called it. All those months ago, Guerin.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You said he must not know me very well. And he didn’t.” Alex drinks again. “I made damn sure of that.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael says softly.

Alex turns, suddenly. Looks at him sharply. “Are you?”

There’s heat in his gaze, an intensity that’s familiar. Michael makes a decision. “No. Not one fucking bit.”

Alex’s eyes narrow, and he sets his jaw. He leans into Michael’s personal space, gets right near his ear. “I’m crashing on the couch in Maria’s office,” he says, voice low. “Give me a thirty second head start, then meet me there.”

Michael is too astonished to reply as Alex slaps down some cash and gets up from the bar. Michael counts down from thirty in his head, ignoring the way Maria’s eyes are boring holes in him. 

He barely makes it into the office before Alex is on him. Michael gasps, and the noise makes Alex stumble back a bit, look down. 

“Guerin,” he says. “I… You know what happened to me.”

Michael knows shit, but says nothing.

“And I get it. It’s, it’s a big change. If, if you don’t want to do anything…” Alex looks down, and – oh. That’s what this is about. 

Michael shakes his head and reaches out to grab Alex, pull him in close, flush against him. “I want to do everything,” he says.

***

Alex is half dressed on the couch, his breathing just returning to normal. “Fuck, Michael,” he mutters. “God damn. How do you…?”

“Hey,” Michael says, chancing a kiss to Alex’s shoulder. “It’s a team effort, okay?”

Alex stares at him, almost disbelieving.

There’s a private bathroom in the corner. Michael ducks into it to clean up a bit. Gather his thoughts. 

This thing with Alex… this connection. It’s not like this with other people - god knows he’s tried. But he needs it to be different this time. Needs Alex to not just leave, not just keep him sequestered like some painful secret. 

“I’m hungry,” he announces as soon as he comes out of the bathroom. 

“It’s like 10 pm,” Alex says.

“9:42. Crashdown closes at 10.”

“Michael,” Alex warns.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t missed Arturo’s enchiladas,” Michael says, and he hopes Alex knows this is about more than enchiladas. “It’s late,” he says softly. “No one will see us, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Alex’s shoulders slump. “That’s not…” He swallows. “I mean, before, I know I definitely…” He sighs and it almost seems like he’s… debating something with himself. “I’m sorry,” he finally says, looking up at Michael with big eyes. “I’m sorry I made you think that, all those years. With the way I was. The, the way I acted toward you.”

Michael’s still. Stunned.

Alex clears his throat. “I… I’ve been in therapy, and… I know there’s a lot more we need to say.” He sighs heavily. “I seriously didn’t mean to just roll into town and immediately…” he trails off, gesturing at the wrecked couch. 

Michael bites his lip, hard.

Alex peers up at him. “I mean, I’m glad we did. I wanted to. Shit,” he says, wiping a hand tiredly over his face. “It’s hard for me, to talk about… anything.” He pauses. “And I think you know why, better than most.”

Michael does know, hates that he knows. Hates that genetic roulette made Jesse Alex’s father. And even knows, on a deeper level, the way secrets from the past can infect the present. Sabotage the future. 

“I’m not just going to leave this time, Michael,” Alex says softly. He must see the uncertainty on Michael’s face, because he grabs his hand. “I promise.” He drops the hand, reaches for his shirt. “But first, let’s get those enchiladas.”

***

They’re still careful, in public. Not like two people that have just fucked each other stupid. Under normal circumstances, Michael would feel a little guilty, rolling into the Crashdown ten minutes from closing. But these aren’t normal circumstances.

They open the door to the Crashdown and get an immediate reaction. “Alex?!”

“Oh my god, Liz?!” Alex exclaims. They embrace, and Michael sees the genuine happiness and relief on Liz’s face.

“I heard, about your leg,” Liz says. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens,” Alex says, shaking his head. “What brings you back to town? Reunion?”

“Ugh, no. I didn’t even realize that was happening.” She grimaces. “It’s the anniversary.”

“Shit,” Alex mutters, and fuck it all, it is the anniversary. Michael looks down, away from the pain all over Liz’s face. “We, we don’t have to stay, Liz, I know it’s late.”

“No, no, no!” Liz says. “Have a seat. Please. Can you imagine what my father would say if he heard I turned away an American Hero?” she says with a wink.

Alex groans. “Oh god.” 

Liz laughs a little. “Have a seat wherever you want.” She looks at Michael. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Michael Guerin.” She raises an eyebrow. “I’m still holding a grudge from AP Chemistry senior year.”

Michael chuckles, and he and Alex settle themselves in a booth in the corner. Away from the windows, Michael notices. Alex is quiet, and he can’t tell if this is… too much for him. On the other hand, Alex was just fucking engaged to another dude…

“I’m glad we ran into each other tonight,” Alex says quietly after they order.

Michael can feel himself relax, just a little. “Yeah. Me too.” Isn’t about to tell Alex it wasn’t exactly a coincidence.

“Truth is, Michael, ever since I ran into you last time I was in town, it, it got me thinking.”

The door opens, and Michael watches as some guy gets the salmon to go. Who the hell comes to the Crashdown and gets fucking salmon?

“What did it get you thinking about, exactly?” Michael asks, a little suggestive.

Alex laughs a little to himself. “I mean… Yeah, I thought about that. Never, um, never totally stopped thinking about that, but after everything, I didn’t really know if that would be an option anymore.”

Michael must look confused, because Alex sighs, looks down. “My leg. My injury.”

“You’re still you, Alex,” Michael says.

“Aaaand, here you go!” Liz says brightly, interrupting them. “Two orders of enchiladas. With chips and queso on the house,” she says with a wink.

“Liz, you didn’t have to – “

“Callate, Alex,” Liz says. “Seriously. Let me feed you. It’s the least I can do, after everything.” 

Alex seems to soften a bit. “You weren’t the only one that left, Liz.” 

The door opens again. Who the fuck is coming in now?

Liz must feel similarly. “We’re closed!” she calls out, not bothering to look. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” a man’s voice replies, and fuck it all…

Michael swivels in the booth and sees Max standing in the entrance, in full Deputy gear. They lock eyes briefly.

“I, uh, I just came to tell you your left front running light is out.”

Liz walks toward him. “What?” she asks, wiping her hands on her apron. 

“You, uh, you peeled out before I could say anything, but that’s why I stopped you.” He glances over at Michael, then moves closer to Liz. “I’m not one of the bad guys, Liz,” he says, voice low. He seems to realize that Michael’s still watching him, still listening, and he backs up a bit. “Anyway, it was, uh… it was really good to see you.”

“Is that Max Evans?” Alex asks.

Michael nods. 

“He a cop now?”

“Yup,” Michael says wryly.

“Huh. That’s unexpected.”

Max turns to go, and Michael watches as Liz goes after him. “You want a milkshake?” she asks Max.

“He sure fucking does…” Michael mutters.

“What?” asks Alex.

“It’s just… Max has had a thing for Liz since high school.”

Alex scoffs a little, nods. “I mean, he wasn’t subtle about it, back then. Even when she was with Valenti.”

“Fucking Valenti,” Michael groans. 

“I could put a couple shots of bourbon in. Least I can do after I was a total bitch to you,” Liz is telling Max, over by the counter.

Alex raises an eyebrow. “We might not be the only members of the class of ’08 that hook up tonight.”

“Tearing families apart, that is not why I joined the force,” Max is saying.

“You wanted to be a writer,” Liz says, matter-of fact.

Max stares at her, eyes wide. “You remember that?”

“Did not realize we were gonna get a front row seat to this tonight,” Michael whispers.

“No,” Alex replies. He takes a bite of enchilada, sighs happily. “God, how does Arturo do it?”

“No idea,” Michael says, shoving a forkful into his own mouth. This is way more than he usually pays for food, but it feels worth it, sitting here with Alex, watching Max awkwardly flirt with Liz. Feels… feels almost like an alternate universe.

“Oh shit, look at this,” Alex says, nodding in Liz and Max’s direction. 

Michael turns in the booth to see Liz handing Max a shake. 

“And now I’m here,” she’s saying, “wearing antennae, and, uh… sharing a shake with my high school lab partner.”

Max laughs nervously. “Oh. Are, are we sharing?”

“Oh my god, Max,” Michael mutters.

“Yeah,” Liz says, a small smile on her face.

“You know, I used to… think about what I would say if I ever saw you again,” Max says, looking shyly at Liz.

“I bet he did,” Michael says dryly, and Alex stifles a laugh.

BANG! BANG!

Before Michael can really register what’s happening, Alex is across the table, pushing him down. “Down! Get down!” he’s shouting, and Max is doing the same with Liz. 

“Shit!” Michael yells, feeling Alex’s body atop his own, hearing the glass windows shatter at the front of the restaurant. “Shit!”

“No, no…”

“You okay?” Alex asks Michael, body tense. 

“Yeah, yeah Alex. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Alex nods. “I’m okay.”

“Liz?”

Michael feels Max. “Oh fuck.” He can feel the dread, the fear. “Oh my god,” he mutters. “Alex. Alex, get up. I, I think… I think Liz…”

The lights are flickering, buzzing, then finally exploding. “Holy shit!” Alex says, looking up. It gives Michael a chance to disentangle from Alex, rush over to Max.

Max, who has his hands on Liz.

Max, who is healing Liz.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Michael hisses. Even in the darkness, he can see the dark puddle of blood on the floor. 

“She was shot,” Max grits out. “She was dying.”

“Fuck!” Michael cries. He watches as Liz begins to cough, as Alex begins to stand up, look their way.

“Max…” he says, and Max just looks at him. 

“You can’t… you cannot tell me you’d have done anything differently. If it was him,” Max says, grim-faced. 

And that shuts Michael right up. 

Max’s attention is fully on Liz now. “It’s okay. It’s just… I’m here.”

Liz is trying to sit up, clutching at her chest. “I was shot?” She looks around at Max, at Michael. “I was shot?”

“No, no,” Max says quickly, supporting her with his arm. “No, it’s, it’s just ketchup.”

“It’s not fucking ketchup,” Alex says, leaning heavily on his crutch, face stony. “This is blood.”

“It’s not,” Max insists.

“I did three fucking combat tours, Max. I know what blood looks like. And fucking smells like, my god.” 

Max is biting his lip and staring at Alex. Turns away quickly to look at Liz. “Please… tell me. Tell me. Tell me you’re alright,” he pleads.

She locks eyes with him. “I’m all right,” she says, gripping his arm. “I’m all right.”

“How?” Alex asks, voice cold. “How is she all right, Max?”

“I’ve gotta go,” Max says, shaking his head. “The shooter’s still out there!”

“Not till you tell us what happened,” Alex says.

“Alex,” Michael says, touching his arm.

“No!” Alex says angrily, shaking off the touch. “I know what I saw. Michael,” he says, “come on. I mean, you’re seeing this too, right? This is blood! There’s a hole in her fucking uniform. Do not tell me you’re not seeing this?”

Max glares at Michael, and Michael can do nothing but close his eyes, take a deep breath. “You’re right, Alex,” he says, voice surprisingly steady. He looks down. “Liz, you were shot.”

“Then how…?” she says, putting her finger through the bullet hole in her uniform.

Max is staring at him, shaking his head. “Michael, don’t.”

“Max healed you, Liz.” 

“Healed me?”

Alex has moved in front of Liz, using his body like a shield. “Tell me how.” 

And it’s not like Michael hasn’t thought about this. Maybe… maybe even fantasized about it, from time to time. The big reveal, the ultimate unburdening. It’s always Alex, who he tells. Alex who looks at him with love, understanding.

He never pictured it like this. Bloody.

“He did it the same way I can do this,” Michael says. Without warning, Max’s hat and Liz’s antennae float off their heads. Switch places. 

“We’re aliens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I know there could be more to say in this universe, but this felt like a good, transitional place to leave it. Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come say hello on tumblr (aewriting).
> 
> Fic title and all chapter titles are from "My Favorite Mistake" by Sheryl Crow. In fact, this song randomly coming on my spotify playlist was what inspired the whole fic!


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